The Suspension Is Killing Me...

Oh the Fucking Dramas!

Where to start?

Regular readers might recall posts I've written earlier in the year that my little Son had been having trouble adjusting to life at Big School...

For reasons I've already told some of You my Hubby and I decided to change schools only four days into the school year; mostly due to the fact I thought my little Son would feel intimidated and threatened- and hence not learn very much- from his Then teacher (I'll call her Mrs Crankypants)...

So we moved schools. So far so good? His new teacher, Miss Hot-Young-Blond, and little Son seem to get on famously; She appreciates his cheeky side but is stern enough to keep him in line when warranted. I can also tell He's popular with most of the children; even the sixth-graders hi-five him as we walk into the school gates and all the children say 'There goes little Son's Mum' when I walk past, too. He's known. For better and for worse he's known by every teacher and student in the place. All three hundred or so of them.

There have been a few 'incidents' in the playground; mostly between him and another child who I'll call 'Billy'. They have similar personalities- both rough and tumble boys-boys- to them it's Fun to throw sand and small sticks at each other while playing in the sandpit at lunchtime. If it's Not Really Hurting Each Other then it's not doing any harm; in their eyes at least. In the mornings when I drop little Son at school they seek each other out straight away; immediately re-launching into the same police-style Cops and Robbers game that they played Yesterday and The Day Before...

They Both like this game. They both don't understand why they have to sit on the 'thinking chair' or miss out on play at lunchtime. They especially don't know what Miss Hot-Young-Blond or Mrs Principal mean when they rabbit on about School Rule Number One; Thou Shalt Not Hit Other Students.

Was I so in the Dark about my Child? Don't I know Him at all?

Here is The Letter; minus the Names...

"This is to inform you that I have today suspended your Son from Second-Chance School, consistent with the procedures of the Department for suspension and this school's disciplinary code.

He has been suspended for aggressive behaviour towards another student yesterday. It was reported that He punched a classmate in the neck. This has caused serious damage and the student has been hospitalised due to the seriousness of the injury. According to the family he is waiting to see the cardiovascualer surgeon in the morning. Treatment or surgery will follow.

He will be suspended from School for four days from Thursday to Tuesday inclusive. Our experience is that your assistance and co-operation in working with us will more readily lead to resolution.

On Monday He attended the Planning Room for a series of repeated incidents including aggression towards others and throwing sticks at students. Due to his late start at our school, the Itinerant Support Teacher Mr Nice-Guy has been supporting him in class and in the playground to a transition to school program. Mr Nice-Guy and class teachers have expressed concerns about His aggression towards others and his lack of remorse and inability to respond to discipline.

If His behaviours do not improve markedly then he will not be permitted on the Early Stage 1 zoo excursion, even though you have kindly offered to accompany him.

I will meet with you in my office on Wednesday at 9:30 to discuss His return to school. You may wish to have a support person present at this meeting. You are responsible for the care and safety of Him while he is on suspension. The School expects that he continue with his studies while suspended. I will ask Miss Hot-Young-Blond for some work for Him.

I have included a copy of the School discipline Code and the Departments procedures document on suspension on page 2 and a section on appeals on Page 7.

Yours Sincerely

Mrs Principal."

So what happened; I hear you ask.

When I arrived to collect him on the Wednesday afternoon Miss Hot-Young-Blond came directly over to speak to Me; saying that little Son had been involved in an 'episode' and that the other boy's parents had had to collect him early because his neck had blown up like a balloon only minutes afterwards. Little Son was in Mr Nice-Guy's office, along with Mr Stern, and so in I went...

What happened in Dolly Corner? What had made little Son hit the other kid in the neck? His face had brightened when he first saw Me but it soon turned dark again when I started in on the questions along with all the teachers. It was his turn with the Policeman's Hat; he said. The other kid wasn't sharing it with him. When little Son was finally wearing it the other kid started up a chant of 'Na Na Na Nar-Na'. Little Son hit the other kid (it Wasn't Billy this time) in the neck. He didn't even cry. And then the trouble was over. Or so it seemed.

Especially as far as little Son was concerned.

I gave little Son a drilling the whole way up to collect Hubby from work- the drive takes about forty minutes on a good day through heavy traffic. I was pretty harsh on him. No icecream or treats for a week. No Playstation. No 'Hit and Run' Simpson's game. All the things he loves the most. See? You don't get fun things when you're Naughty. When you are good You can have those things back again and won't that be good? Because I know You are a good little boy Most of the time, aren't you? And it's not nice to hurt our friends- now is it?

Yes Mummy. No Mummy.

But I couldn't keep riding him about it Continuosly could I?

When we got home he asked for a bowl of icecream with sprinkles please.

And I snapped...

He cried. No sobbed. I know he knew I was sad and angry that he'd hurt that other kid. He knew it had made me disappointed at his behaviour. But he doesn't have a malicious bone in his little body- and he felt like a ragdoll as he cried in my arms. My guess is that he was scared- scared at what he'd done. Scared of seeing Dad. And Grandma. Scared of having to front up to Mr Stern and Mrs Principal.

That night I called my Sister. Her eldest has Autism and as such she's no stranger to behaviourial problems or suspensions from school. My Nephew's almost a teenager now and started highschool; She's done the hard yards with him. She told Me to expect a lot of blood, sweat and tears...

What For, exactly; I wanted to know. It's only sand and stones.

What would happen if he was in a pit full of guns; she asked. According to Sister he's utilising the 'weapons' he has at hand; sand sticks and stones. If he had a gun at his disposal Sister has no doubt he would have tried to use it.

He's five Readers. What could I do but defend him?

Naturally Sister turned the tables onto Me. It's mine and Hubby's fault for being at the Pub every Friday night. Our fucked attempt at being Parents. She told me to Act My Age. I shouldn't Want to go out drinking on the weekend with my Mates; I shouldn't expect my Mother- or any of Hubby's family- to mind our kids on the the weekend. She even took it upon herself to call my Mother and get her to back out of minding little Son for the night when she was the one who had offered in the first place...

I didn't know I was the one on suspension. I'd worked five days that week.

It didn't stop Me; Hubby and I took it on in shifts. He went out first then after I picked him up CC and I went out for a couple of hours while he and little Son went to bed. My Sister called me on my mobile and left me a text. Where are you? I ignored it for a while then rang her home number. There was no answer so I left messages on her mobile. I'm HERE. Fuck I was dirty with her. If I'M to blame for my little Son's behaviour at school because of how I've raised him; if what I've done has caused this- then surely everything She's ever done is the cause of her kid?

Maybe if she hadn't had that affair with that married man and gotten pregnant; maybe if Nephew hadn't been shunned by his own Father and that family- maybe my Nephew might've turned out differently too?

Who Knows?

Anyway- there's more to this story...

But I'm running late and the toilets are waiting.